in the street markets on Saturday nights, but the principal traffic
is in the public-houses. This kind of blacking is retailed at 2_d._
a bottle, and, I was informed by a man who had sold it, was “rather
queer stuff.” It is labelled “equal to” (in very small letters) “DAY
AND MARTIN” in very large letters. One of the manufacturers a few years
ago told my informant that he had been threatened “with being sued
for piracy, but it was no use sueing a mouse.” There are sometimes
none, and sometimes twenty persons hawking this blacking, and they are
principally, I am informed, the servants of showmen, “out of employ,”
or “down on their luck.” Some of these men “raffle” their blacking in
public-houses. They are provided with tickets, numbered from one to
six, which are thrown, the blank sides upwards on a table, and the
drawer of number six wins a two-penny bottle of blacking for 1/2_d._;
for this the raffler receives 3_d._ Few of these traders sell more than
one dozen bottles in a day, the principal trade being in the evening,
and “one-and-a-half dozen is a very good day.” The goods are carried
in a sack, slung from the shoulder, and are a very heavy carriage, as
two-and-a-half dozen, which are often carried, weigh about 100 lbs.
If ten men, the year through, take each 6_s._ weekly (about half the
amount being profit), which, I am assured, is the average extent of
the trade, we find 156_l._ yearly expended in this liquid blacking.
“Ten years ago,” said one blacking seller to me, “it was three times
as much as it is now.” At the mews blacking is sold by men who are for
the most part servants out of place, or who have become known to the
denizens of the mews, from having been “helpers” in some capacity, if
they have not worn a livery. Here the article vended is what it is
announced to be,--“Hoby’s” or “Everett’s” blacking. The sellers are
known to the coachmen and grooms, many of whom have to “find their own
blacking,” or there would be no business done in the mews, the dwellers
there being great sticklers for “a good article.” The profit to the
vendors is 3_s._ in 12_s._ Shilling bottles are vended as numerously
as “sixpennies.” An old coachman, who had lived in mews in all parts
of town, calculated that, take the year through, there was every day
twenty men selling blacking in the mews, with an average profit of
10_d._ a day, or 5s. a week, so taking 15_s._ each. This gives a mews
expenditure, yearly, of 780_l._
_Black-Lead_, for the polishing of grates, is sold in small paper
packets, the half ounce being a 1/2_d._, and the ounce a 1_d._ The
profit is cent. per cent. Nearly all the women who sell blacking, as
I have described, sell black-lead also. In addition to these elderly
traders, however, there are from twenty to thirty boys and girls who
vend black-lead in the street markets, but chiefly on Saturday nights,
and on other days offer it through the area rails--their wretched
plight, without any actual begging, occasionally procuring them custom.
The black-lead sold in the streets has often a label in imitation of
that of established shop-keepers, as “Superfine Pencil Black-Lead,
prepared expressly for, and sold by T. H. Jennings, Oil-Colour and
Italian Warehouse, 25, Wormwood-street, City.” The name and address
must of course be different, but the arrangement of the lines, and
often the type, is followed closely, as are the adornments of the
packet, which in the instance cited are heraldic. In other parts of
town, the labels of tradesmen are imitated in a similar way, but not
very closely; and in nearly half the quantity sold a _bonâ fide_ label
is given, without imitation or sham. “There would be more sold in that
way,” I was told by a sharp lad, “quite the real ticket, if the dons
as wholesales the black-lead, would make it up to sell in ha’porths
and penn’orths, with a proper ’lowance to us as sells.” This boy and a
young sister went on a round; the boy with black-lead, the girl with
boot-laces, in one direction, the mother going in another, and each
making for their room at six in the evening, or as soon as “sold out.”
There are, I am informed, 100 to 150 persons selling and hawking
black-lead in the streets, and it may be estimated that they take
4_s._ each weekly (the adults selling other small articles with the
black-lead); thus we find, averaging the number of sellers at 125, that
1,300_l._ is yearly expended in this article, half of which sum forms
the profit of the street-folk.
OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF FRENCH POLISH.
The greater part of the French polish vended in the streets is bought
at oil and varnish-shops in Bethnal-green and Whitechapel, the
wholesale price being 1_s._ a pint. The street-vendors add turpentine
to the polish, put it into small bottles, and retail it at 1_d._ a
bottle. They thus contrive to clear 5_d._ on each shilling they take.
There are now five and sometimes six men selling French polish in the
streets and public-houses. “But the trade’s getting stale,” I was told;
“there was twice as many in it three or four years back, and there’ll
be fewer still next year.” When French polish first became famous there
were, I was informed, several cabinet-makers who hawked it--some having
prepared it themselves--and they would occasionally clear 5_s._ in a
day. Of these street-traders there are now none, the present vendors
having been in no way connected with the manufacture of furniture.
These men generally carry with them pieces of “fancy wood,” such as
rose, or sandal wood, which they polish up in the streets to show the
excellence of the varnish. The chief purchasers are working people and
small tradespeople, or their wives, who require trifling quantities of
such a composition when they re-polish any small article of furniture.
The French polish-sellers, I am assured by a man familiar with the
business, take 2_s._ a day each, or rather in an evening, for the sales
are then the most frequent: the 2_s._ leaves a profit of 10_d._ The
street expenditure is, therefore (reckoning five regular sellers),
156_l._ yearly. None of the French polish-sellers confine themselves
entirely to the sale of it.
OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF GREASE-REMOVING COMPOSITIONS.
The persons engaged in this trade carry it on with a regular patter.
One man’s street announcement is in the following words: “Here you have
a composition to remove stains from silks, muslins, bombazeens, cords,
or tabarets of any kind or colour. It will never injure nor fade the
finest silk or satin, but restore it to its original colour. For grease
on silks, &c., only rub the composition on dry, let it remain five
minutes, then take a clothes’ brush and brush it off, and it will be
found to have removed the stains. For grease in woollen cloths spread
the composition on the place with a piece of woollen cloth and cold
water; when dry rub it off, and it will remove the grease or stain.
For pitch or tar use hot water instead of cold, as that prevents the
nap coming off the cloth. Here it is. Squares of grease-removing
composition, never known to fail, only 1_d._ each.”
This street-traffic, I was informed, was far more extensively carried
on when silks and woollen cloths, and textile manufactures generally,
were more costly and more durable than at present, and when to dye,
and scour, and “turn” a garment, was accounted good housewiveship. The
sellers then told wonders of their making old silk gowns, or old coats,
as good as new, by removing every discolouration, no matter from what
cause. Now a silk dress is rarely, if ever, subjected to the experiment
of being renovated by the virtues of grease-removing compositions
sold in the streets. The trade, at present, is almost confined to the
removing of the grease from coat-collars, or of stains from contact
with paint, &c., with which boys (principally) have damaged their
garments.
The grease-remover generally carries his wares on a tray slung in
front of him, and often illustrates the efficacy of his composition,
by showing its application to the very greasy collar of a boy’s old
jacket, which is removed with admirable facility. The man patters as
he carries on this work. “You would have thought now that jacket was
done for, and only fit for the rag-bag, or to go to make up a lot for
a Jew; but with my composition--only 1_d._ a cake--it has acquired a
new nap and a new gloss, and you’ve escaped a tailor’s bill for awhile
for 1_d._ You can use your own eyes. You’ve seen me do it, and here’s
the very same stuff as I have proved to you is so useful and was never
known to fail. No mother, or wife, or mistress, or maid, that wishes to
be careful and not waste money, should be without it in the house. It
removes stains from silks, &c., &c.”
Notwithstanding these many recommendations, the street trade in
grease-removing cakes is a very poor one. It cannot be carried on in
bad weather, for an audience cannot then be collected, and to clear
1_s._ 6_d._ in a day is accounted fair work. No grease-remover confines
his trade to that commodity. One of the best known sells also plate
balls, and occasionally works conundrums and comic exhibitions. The
two brothers, who were formerly Grecians at the Blue Coat School, are
also in this line. There are now seven men who sell grease-removing
compositions, which they prepare themselves. The usual ingredients are
pipe clay, two pennyworth of which is beat up and “worked with two
colours,” generally red lead and stone blue. This gives the composition
a streaky look, and takes away the appearance of pipe clay.
The purchasers of this article are, I am told, women and servants, but
the trade is one which is declining. One of the best localities for
sale is Ratcliff Highway and the purchasers there are sailors. One man
told me that he once made a pound’s worth for a sailor, who took it to
sea with him. The street-seller did not know for what purpose, but he
conjectured that it was as a matter of speculation to a foreign country.
Calculating that the seven grease-removers carry on the sale of the
article 3 days each week, and clear 1_s._ 6_d._ per day, we find 78
guineas yearly expended in the streets for the removal of grease.
Nearly the whole is profit.
_Plating Balls_ are generally sold by the grease-removers, but
sometimes they are proffered for sale alone. There are four men whose
principal dependance is on the sale of plating balls. One announces
his wares as “making plate as good as silver, and all inferior metals
equal to the best plated. No tarnish can stand against my plate balls,”
he goes on, “and if, in this respectable company, there should chance
to be any lady or genl’man that has no plate, then let him make an old
brass candlestick shine like gold, or his tin candlestick, extinguisher
and all, shine like silver. Here are the balls that can do it, and only
4 a penny. You have only to rub the ball on your wash-leather, or dry
woollen cloth, and rub it on what has to be restored. Four a penny!”
These balls, which are prepared by the street-sellers, are usually made
of a halfpennyworth of whitening, a farthing’sworth of red-lead, and an
ounce of quicksilver, costing 7_d._ A gross of balls costs 7-3/4_d._,
as regards the materials. The receipts of the plating ball sellers are
the same as those of the grease-removers, but with a somewhat smaller
profit.
OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF CORN-SALVE.
The street purveyors of corn-salve, or corn-plaster, for I heard both
words used, are not more than a dozen in number; but, perhaps, none
depend _entirely_ upon the sale of corn-salve for a living. As is
the wont of the pattering class to which they belong, these men make
rounds into the country and into the suburbs, but there are sometimes,
on one day, a dozen “working the main drags” (chief thoroughfares) of
London: there are no women in the trade. The salve is most frequently
carried on a small tray, slung in front of the street professional; but
sometimes it is sold at a small stall or stand. Oxford-street, Holborn,
Tottenham-court-road, and Whitechapel, are favourite localities for
these traders; as are Blackfriars-road and Newington-causeway on the
Surrey side of the Thames. On the Saturday evening the corn-salve
sellers resort to the street markets.
The patter of these traders is always to the same purport (however
differently expressed)--the long-tested efficacy and the unquestionable
cheapness of their remedies. The vendors are glib and unhesitating;
but some, owing, I imagine, to a repetition of the same words, as they
move from one part of a thoroughfare to another, or occupy a pitch,
have acquired a monotonous tone, little calculated to impress a street
audience--to effect which a man must be, or appear to be, in earnest.
The patter of one of these dealers, who sells corn-salve on fine
evenings, and works the public-houses, “with anything likely,” on wet
evenings, is, from his own account, in the following words:--
“Here you have a speedy remedy for every sort of corn! Your hard corn,
soft corn, blood corn, black corn, old corn, new corn, wart, or bunion,
can be safely cured in three days! Nothing further to do but spread
this salve on a piece of glove-leather, or wash-leather, and apply it
to the place. Art and nature does the rest. Either corns, warts, or
bunions, cured for one penny.”
This, however, is but as the announcement of the article on sale, and
is followed by a recapitulation of the many virtues of that peculiar
recipe; but, as regards the major part of these street-traders, the
recapitulation is little more than a change of words, if that. There
are, however, one and sometimes two patterers, of acknowledged powers,
who every now and then sell corn-salve--for the restlessness of this
class of people drives them to incessant changes in their pursuits--and
their oratory is of a higher order. One of the men in question speaks
to the following purport:--
“Here you are! here you are! all that has to complain of corns. As
fast as the shoemaker lames you, I’ll cure you. If it wasn’t for me
he dursn’t sing at his work; bless you, but he knows I’ll make his
pinching easy to you. Hard corn, soft corn, any corn--sold again! Thank
you, sir, you’ll not have to take a ’bus home when you’ve used my
corn-salve, and you can wear your boots out then; you can’t when you’ve
corns. Now, in this little box you see a large corn which was drawn
by this very salve from the honourable foot of the late lamented Sir
Robert Peel. It’s been in my possession three years and four months,
and though I’m a poor man--hard corn, soft corn, or any corn--though
I’m a poor man, the more’s the pity, I wouldn’t sell that corn for the
newest sovereign coined. I call it the free-trade corn, gen’l’men and
leddis. No cutting and paring, and sharpening penknives, and venturing
on razors to level your corns; this salve draws them out--only one
penny--and without pain. But wonders can’t be done in a moment. To
draw out such a corn as I’ve shown you, the foot, the whole foot, must
be soaked five minutes in warm soap and water. That makes the salve
penetrate, and draw the corn, which then falls out, in three days, like
a seed from a flower. Hard corn, soft corn, &c., &c.”
The corn from “the honourable foot” of Sir Robert Peel, or from the
foot of any one likely to interest the audience, has been scraped
and trimmed from a cow’s heel, and may safely be submitted to the
inspection and handling of the incredulous. “There it is,” the
corn-seller will reiterate--“it speaks for itself.”
[Illustration: THE STREET-SELLER OF GREASE-REMOVING COMPOSITION, ETC.
[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]]
One practice--less common than it was, however,--of the corn-salve
street-seller, is to get a friend to post a letter--expressive
of delighted astonishment at the excellence and rapidity of
the corn-cure--at some post-office not very contiguous. If the
salve-seller be anxious to remove the corns of the citizens, he
displays this letter, with the genuine post-mark of Piccadilly, St.
James’s-street, Pall-mall, or any such quarter, to show how the
fashionable world avails itself of his wares, cheap as they are,
and fastidious as are the fashionable! If the street-professional
be offering his corn-cures in a fashionable locality, he produces
a letter from Cheapside, or Cornhill--“there it is, it speaks for
itself”--to show how the shrewd city-people, who were never taken
in by street-sellers in their lives, and couldn’t be, appreciated
that particular corn-salve! Occasionally, as the salve-seller is
pattering, a man comes impetuously forward, and says loudly, “Here,
doctor, let me have a shilling’s-worth. I bought a penn’orth, and it
cured one corn by bringing it right out--here the d----d thing is, it
troubled me seven year--and I’ve got other corns, and I’m determined
I’ll root out the whole family of them. Come, now, look sharp, and
put up a shilling’s-worth.” The shilling’s-worth is gravely handed to
the applicant as if it were not only a _boná fide_, but an ordinary
occurrence in the way of business.
One corn-salve seller--who was not in town at the time of my inquiry
into this curious matter--had, I was assured, “and others might
have” full faith in the efficacy of the salve he vended. One of his
fellow-traders said to me, “Ay, sir, and he has good reason for
trusting to it for a cure; he cured _me_ of my corns, that I’m sure of;
so there can be no nonsense about it. He has a secret.” On my asking
this informant if he had tried his own corn-salve, he laughed, and said
“No! I’m like the regular doctors that way, never tries my own things.”
The same man, who had no great faith in what he sold being of any use
in the cure of “corn, wart, or bunion,” assured me--and I have no doubt
with truth--that he had sold his remedy to persons utter strangers to
him, who had told him afterwards that it had cured their corns. “False
relics,” says a Spanish proverb, “have wrought true miracles,” and to
what cause these corn-cures were attributable, it is not my business to
inquire.
I had no difficulty in acquiring a knowledge of the ingredients of a
street corn-salve. “Anybody,” said one man, “that understands how to
set about it, can get the recipe for 2_d._” Resin, 1 lb., (costing
2_d._); tallow, 1/4 lb. (1-1/2_d._); emerald green (1_d._); all boiled
together. The emerald green, I was told, was to “give it a colour.” The
colour is varied, but I have cited the most usual mode of preparation.
Attempts have been made to give an aromatic odour to the salve, but
all the perfumes within the knowledge, or rather the means, of the
street-sellers, were overpowered by the resin and the tallow, “and it
has,” remarked one dealer, “a physicky sort of smell as it is, which
answers.” The quantity I have cited would supply a sufficiency of the
composition for the taking of “a sovereign in penn’orths.” In a week
or so the stuff becomes discoloured, often from dust, and has to be
re-boiled. Some of the traders illustrate the mode of applying the
salve by carrying a lighted candle, and a few pieces of leather, and
showing how to soften the composition and spread it on the leather.
“After all, sir,” said the man, who had faith in the virtues of his
fellow street-trader’s salve, “the regular thing, such as I sell, may
do good; I cannot say; but it is very likely that the resin will draw
the corn, just as people apply cobbler’s wax, which has resin in it.
The chemists will sell you something of the same sort as I do.”
The principal purchasers are working men, who buy in the streets, and
occasionally in the public-houses. The trade, however, becomes less and
less remunerative. To take 15_s._ in a week is a good week, and to take
10_s._ is more usual; the higher receipt is no doubt attributable to
a superior patter being used, as men will give 1_d._ to be amused by
this street work, without caring about the nostrum. Calculating that
eight of these traders take 10_s._ weekly--so allowing for the frequent
resort of the patterers to anything more attractive--we find 208_l._
expended in the streets on this salve. The profits of the seller are
about the same as his receipts, for 240 pennyworths can be made out of
materials costing only 4-1/2_d._ The further outlay necessary to this
street profession is a tray worth 1_s._ or 1_s._ 6_d._, but a large
old backgammon board, which may be bought at the second-hand shops for
1_s._ and sometimes for 6_d._, is more frequently used by the street
purveyors of corn-salve.
OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF GLASS AND CHINA CEMENT, AND OF RAZOR PASTE.
The sale of glass and china cement is an old trade in the streets, but
one which becomes less and less followed. Before the finer articles
of crockeryware became cheap as they are now, it was of importance
to mend, if possible, a broken dish of better quality, and of more
importance to mend a china punch-bowl. Dishes, however, are now much
cheaper, and china punch-bowls are no longer an indispensable part of
even tavern festivity.
The sellers of this cement proclaim it as one which will “cure any
china, stone, or earthenware, and make the broken parts adhere so
firmly, that if you let it fall again, it will break, not at the part
where it has been cemented, but at some other. Only a halfpenny, or
a penny a stick.” These traders sometimes illustrate the adhesive
strength of the composition by producing a plate or dish which has
been cemented in different places, and letting it fall, to break in
some hitherto sound part. This they usually succeed in doing. For the
cementing of glass the street article is now perhaps never sold, and
was but scantily sold, I am informed, at any time, as the junction was
always unsightly.
There are now four men who sell this cement in the streets, one usually
to be found in Wilderness-row, Goswell-street, being, perhaps, the
one who carries on the trade most regularly. They all make their own
cement; one of the receipts being--1 lb. shellac (5_d._), 1/4 lb.
brimstone (1/2_d._), blended together until it forms a thick sort
of glue. This quantity makes half-a-crown’s-worth of the cement for
the purposes of retail. The sellers do not confine themselves to
one locality, but are usually to be found in one or other of the
street-markets on a Saturday night. If each seller take 5_s._ weekly
(of which 4_s._ may be profit), we find 52_l._ expended yearly by
street customers in this cement.
I include razor paste under this head, as sometimes, and at one time
more frequently than now, the same individual sold both articles,
though not at the same time.
There are twelve street-sellers of razor-paste, but they seem to prefer
“working” the distant suburbs, or going on country rounds, as there are
often only three in London. It is still vended, I am told, to clerks,
who use it to sharpen their pen-knives, but the paste, owing to the
prevalence of the use of steel pens, is now almost a superfluity,
compared to what it was. It is bought also, and frequently enough in
public-houses, by working men, as a means of “setting” their razors.
The vendors make the paste themselves, except two, who purchase of a
street-seller. The ingredients are generally fuller’s earth (1_d._),
hog’s lard (1_d._), and emery powder (2_d._). The paste is sold in
boxes carried on a tray, which will close and form a sort of case, like
a backgammon board. The quantity I have given will make a dozen boxes
(each sold at 1_d._), so that the profit is 7_d._ in the 1_s._, for
to the 4_d._ paid for ingredients must be added 1_d._, for the cost
of a dozen boxes. The paste is announced as “warranted to put an edge
to a razor or pen-knife superior to anything ever before offered to
the public.” The street-sellers offer to prove this by sharpening any
gentleman’s pen-knife on the paste spread on a piece of soldier’s old
belt, which sharpening, when required, they accomplish readily enough.
One of these paste-sellers, I was told, had been apprenticed to a
barber; another had been a cutler, the remainder are of the ordinary
class of street-sellers.
Calculating that 6 men “work” the metropolis daily, taking 2_s._ each
per day (with 1_s._ 2_d._ profit), we find 187_l._ the amount of the
street outlay.
OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF CRACKERS AND DETONATING BALLS.
This trade, I am informed by persons familiar with it, would be much
more frequently carried on by street-folk, and in much greater numbers,
were it not the one which of all street callings finds the least
toleration from the police. “You must keep your eyes on both corners of
the street,” said one man, “when you sell crackers; and what good is it
the police stopping us? The boys have only to go to a shop, and then
it’s all right.”